


All I Want Is You This Christmas

by PatchworkDragon



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: 17 is legal where they are, Christmas Fluff, DWNOGA, Holiday Cliches, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-21
Updated: 2005-12-21
Packaged: 2019-10-04 12:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17304680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkDragon/pseuds/PatchworkDragon
Summary: For S.J, in the 2005 Don We Now our Gay Apparel fic exhange,http://www.juppy.org/santa/stories.php?ForAuthorID=19&Year=2005





	All I Want Is You This Christmas

Chris adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, struggling not to overbalance himself with the heavy duffel in his other hand. Maybe he should get a bigger suitcase for next time, so he could check more of this stuff. At least he should have checked the shoes.

He could see the guys, or some of them at least, already gathered at the gate. Joey appeared to be asleep, stretched out across three seats. Lance sat across from him, reading with headphones on. And JC was pacing, looking at his watch and then looking down towards the security gate. 

Quietly Chris stepped up behind JC, winking at Lance who simply raised an eyebrow. When he was standing about three inches behind JC, he spoke in a normal tone of voice. "Dude, chill. The plane doesn't even start boarding until three thirty."

JC jumped forward with a squeak and spun around, knocking Chris's duffel to the floor. Lance applauded with a silent golf clap, and Chris bowed to him.

JC seemed less amused. "And where the hell have you been? We were supposed to meet here at two thirty, it's almost three."

"I've been here for two hours, man. Got a ride but I couldn't pick the time, you know how that is."

"So why weren't you  _here_?"

"Had to finish my beer."

"You've been drinking?"

"Hell yes, I've been drinking," Chris answered. "I've got it all figured out. I've been awake since early yesterday morning and drinking since lunch. By the time we taxi out of the gate I will be unconscious and stay that way until we land. And it'll be morning there then and I'll be awake and rested and you poor suckers will be all jetlagged."

"I'm not too sure that will work," JC said worriedly.

"Can't be worse than what he tried on the last trip," Lance said. 

"Thanks," Chris said, smiling. "S'why I like you, always agreeing with me." 

Lance had that eyebrow up again, and Chris thought about the last couple of sentences. "Wait, are you saying something about how I was on the last flight?"

"Yes," JC answered for him. "You were fucking annoying and I am not sitting next to you again."

"Language, language, Mr. Chasez. There are young ears around," Chris said, waving apologetically to the young mother scowling from three rows over. "Sorry ma'am, we forgot his muzzle."

"JC, just sit down. Lynn and Justin are right behind you, and the babysitters are coming from the other way. You can sit with Joey, he makes a good pillow. I'll sit with Chris."

"I wanna sit with Chris," Justin said. "We can trade off playing the Gameboy."

"Nah, I'm gonna try to sleep and you'd just keep me awake. Lance is more restful," Chris tried to sound firm, but Justin was pouting so he unzipped his backpack and pulled out the Gameboy. "Here, you take it for the flight."

If Justin had a tail, it would be wagging. "Really? You sure?"

"Yeah, I've beaten all the games so many times it's boring now."

"Cool!" Justin sat down, already immersed in the game.

Chris got out the headphones and handed them to Lynn. "You'll be needing these," he said.

"Thank you, Chris," she said as she tucked it in the pocket of her carryon. Which was exactly like Justin's but pink instead of baby blue. Sometimes Chris wondered about them.

"How drunk are you?" Lance asked him quietly, once Lynn was settled with her magazine.

"What are you, my mom?"

There went that eyebrow again. "Just wondered if I should hang on to the barf bag for you. Or just switch with one of the babysitters."

Chris was wounded. "I am wounded. You would rather sit next to a babysitter for hours and hours than me?"

"I would rather sit next to you than pretty much any other person I know." No eyebrow at all, so Lance had to be serious. "But if you're gonna hurl I'll take a rain check."

"Well since I only had two beers with a full meal, you're fine. I did stay up all night so you may end up as a pillow."

Lance started to say something, then his eyes shifted to somewhere behind Chris. "Heads up, babysitter at six o'clock," he said very softly. 

Chris made a face. They were supposed to call some of them assistants and some of them bodyguards, and others were nominally managers of both the road and the business variety, but pretty much all of Lou's goons were just 'babysitters' to the group. 

"Hi, David," Lance said in his most vapid tone, and Chris relaxed a little. David was one of the business manager types, just act like good little wanna-be-popstars and he'd leave them alone.

"Chris, Lance," David said jovially. "You boys ready to fly?"

"For the fifth time in three weeks? Looking forward to it sir," Chris lied through his teeth. 

David looked a little confused. "Did you boys have a good Thanksgiving?"

"Yes ah did. My momma made a pie," Lance drawled sweetly, and Chris had to fake a cough to keep from laughing.

David gave up on them soon after that, and stalked importantly over to the gate to check on the flight. 

"Your momma made a  _pie_?" Chris asked, incredulous. 

"Yup," Lance said smugly. "A sweet potata pie." Then he licked his lips.

Suddenly it seemed a little less silly. Chris had been looking at those lips a lot lately, and the licking thing made them even more fascinating. When he managed to look back up at Lance's eyes, that damn eyebrow was raised again.

Years ago, when he was even younger than Justin, Chris had practiced raising one eyebrow. Spock was cool, and he wanted to try. It had taken a lot of practice and a lot of funny faces. Every time he did it he had to wrinkle his nose and twist his mouth, which sort of detracted from the coolness. It was an expression he saved for special occasions, on account of all the trouble and the slight possibility of invoking laughter rather than coolness.

Lance had no such problems. Lance had probably been born with one eyebrow up, challenging the doctor to explain what all the fuss was about. 

Sometimes Chris thought about Lance's eyebrows, and whether the more mobile one would be more responsive to licking than the other.

Sometimes Chris worried about himself.

Lance was now grinning in a knowing way, and Chris worried just a little bit more.

The loudspeaker started calling off names and row numbers, and what with the chaos of boarding and sorting out seat numbers Chris didn't have much time to look at Lance or to worry until they were buckled in and waiting to take off. And then he was only able to worry about whether or not they would survive takeoff. And maybe a little bit about whether he was going to squeeze the fingers off Lance's hand.

He calmed down when they leveled off, helped by a the free beer he snagged from the cart. Lance was just sipping his Dr Pepper and reading his book. Chris peeked at the spine.

"Come on, Bass. Entertain me."

"Thought you were going to sleep through the flight?"

"Maybe in a little while. Gotta let the adrenaline fade. Read to me."

"What, you want me to start over?"

"Nah, I've read it before. Just want to hear you, hear someone talking."

Lance shifted the book to one hand long enough to raise the armrest between them. "Scoot closer so you can hear me over the engines."

Chris did so, even taking his life into his own hands and loosening his seatbelt enough to sort of turn sideways and lean back against Lance. Lance did the same, leaning against the window, and his voice was more heard than felt as Chris fell asleep.

* * *

Lance was only able to read about two pages before Chris started to snore softly. He kept reading silently until his arm got tired of holding the book around Chris, and then stuffed it into the seat pocket. 

Dinner came by just after that, and Lance was surprised that Chris didn't actually wake up when he pushed him back into his own seat. After the food debris was taken away, Lance coaxed Chris to his feet and down to the restrooms, on the theory that if he had to go so did Chris.

When they got back, he arranged himself leaning on the windows with Chris against him like before. Chris hadn't really woken up through the whole thing, and he looked so comfortable that Lance couldn't bring himself to pull the book back out. So instead he just watched Chris sleep.

Lance was drifting in and out of sleep, just feeling warm and cozy despite the arm of the seat digging into his back and the fact that the arm under Chris was mostly asleep. It was like a dream come true, though usually his Chris-dreams involved fewer people around them and much less clothing. He pushed the hair back from Chris's eyes, and then stroked it, just a little.

Even in sleep Chris could not keep still, and he twisted himself into positions that Lance was sure must be incredibly uncomfortable. When he ended up with his head on Lance's shoulder, face turned up and lips parted slightly, Lance found himself holding his breath. He could almost imagine that Chris's eyes were closed for a kiss, rather than in sleep, and he couldn't resist leaning over to briefly press his lips to Chris's.

He felt instantly ashamed, and he had to look away from Chris. He looked up at the aisle, and there was Joey, grinning at him with one thumb up. Lance's face flushed, and he looked away, pretending he hadn't seen Joey.

He continued dozing off and on for the rest of the flight, just enjoying the feeling of taking care of Chris. He could get used to this.

* * *

Chris didn't really wake up until just before landing, though he had some vague memories of stumbling to the bathroom, and of Lance moving him around during the meals. It was the least stressful flight Chris could ever remember. Or, you know, not remember very much at all.

Too bad the whole landing-baggage-customs process was not so smooth. Mostly it was Joey's fault. He started singing sotto voce "Chris and La-ance sitting in a tree," while they were waiting to get off the plane.

Chris took care of that with a well-placed kick to the shin, but unfortunately Justin had overheard, so the teasing continued in ways that the babysitters would not pick up on.

Even Lynn leaned over at one point and whispered something to Lance that made him turn bright red. Chris thought about asking, but some things man was not meant to know. Other than that the smooth bastard didn't seem bothered by the teasing. In fact Lance looked pretty damn smug.

And he had Chris's luggage. "What, you think I'm too old and feeble to carry my own?"

Eyebrow. "Mine has wheels, and yours fits right on that side. Now neither of us has to carry anything."

"Hey, can you get mine too?" Joey asked.

Chris bared his teeth. "My Lance. Find your own."

"Dude, you can have him. Besides, I don't think he wants anyone but you."

Chris looked over his shoulder at Lance, who looked even more smug than before. Then the babysitters came and began herding them outside.

"What are you grinning about?" Chris asked Lance when they were finally sitting in the van, smooshed close in the back seat with the luggage.

"Let's see. It could be because I'm finally traveling Europe without parental supervision," Lance said, grinning even wider. "Or maybe I'm just excited because we're starting another round of twenty-hour days and back to back performances." He leaned in and whispered, "But I think it's because this totally hot guy was sleeping on me for six hours."

"Oh? I can see where that would make you smug, having him right there for so long," Chris said. "And of course you were a perfect gentleman and let him use you as mattress no matter how squashed you got."

"Well I did have to rearrange him a couple of times," Lance admitted.

"And why does that make you blush? Surely you wouldn't have taken advantage of a sleeping man?"

"Stealing a kiss isn't taking advantage."

"There was kissing? Why was I not awake for the kissing?" 

Lance looked down at his hands, and then looked up at Chris through his lashes. That was the shot all the photographers wanted from them, and Chris had always felt pretty ridiculous doing it. Right now he was feeling a compulsion to wrap his arms around Lance and make him happy. By any means necessary, preferably involving touching, kissing, and if the situation demanded, which he fervently hoped it would, sucking.

Lance said, "At least when you're asleep you're not a moving target. I've been trying to get a kiss from you for months."

Which was of course the moment when Justin's foot came out of nowhere and kicked Chris in the head. Since roughhousing in moving vehicles was strictly forbidden - at least with babysitters and a mother around - and Chris was supposed to be the mature member of the group, he had to retaliate verbally.

Between cleverly finding a way to insult Justin without attracting the notice of his mother or a babysitter, and defending his seat when Joey wanted to trade spots, Chris had no more chance to talk with Lance on the way to the hotel.

The next several days were full of interviews, TV shows tapings, and photo shoots to the point that he still never got to talk to Lance. So he just obsessed about it in his spare moments.

Chris was good at that, obsessing about things. And right now he was trying to make himself remember the kiss Lance stole on the plane. He thought he could remember something, a warm feeling on his neck, but he might just be making that up because he needed to know. And then there was what Lance said about wanting a kiss for months. How could he not have known that?

But maybe he had. The flirting had started way back when they shared a room, with Chris accusing Lance of checking him out, expecting blushes and denials and lots of fun teasing. Except Lance had played along, pretending to swoon at the sight of Chris's ass or pretending to try to snatch away his towel after a shower. At least, Chris had convinced himself that Lance was pretending, because the kid was sixteen.

They'd kept with the pattern ever since, at first just when they were alone, then in front of the guys. It was like a big running joke, Lance wanting Chris and Chris alternately feigning shy reluctance, or over-the-top offence, or just simple 'of course he wants me, I'm just that good' as the mood struck him. Lance kept it up in front of mothers but not babysitters, and Chris kept playing along.

He wasn't sure when it had stopped being playing, but thinking back something had changed when they came to Germany the first time. Less teasing in front of others, and more actual touches. Like it wasn't a joke anymore, but the change had been so gradual that Chris hadn't noticed. Lance had started with the eyebrow thing, no longer blindly following Chris's lead in conversation but calling him on his bullshit. Which Chris had to respect, because he was nothing if not full of shit at times.

Luckily Lance seemed to like that about him.

A few days before their next day off, JC and Joey cornered Chris when the younger guys were being prettified for a photo shoot.

"Hey, man." Joey said. "We are so getting drunk on Saturday night, right? Sunday will be our one chance to sleep it off without a performance or something."

"Not a club, thought," JC said. "I'm not feeling up for the crowds and the smoke."

"What, JC not wanting to dance?" Chris wondered aloud. "Are you getting sick?" he asked, reaching out his hand to feel JC's forehead.

"No," JC said, knocking Chris's hand aside. "Just we need to like, you know. Bond or something. And Lance too, he's legal to drink here, and his mom's gone so we gotta bring him in with us."

"Hey, yeah," Joey had an evil glint in his eye. "I'll bet he's a fun drunk."

JC nodded. "We need to get him drunk in private the first time. Because what if he gets sick, or crazy, or something? If we're in the hotel we can keep him under control, just in case."

Chris tried to imagine an out-of-control Lance. 

"Chris?" That sounded like Joey's voice, but Chris didn't want to listen. He wanted to imagine sloppy-drunk kisses from Lance. "Chris, come back from la-la land now." 

JC's giggle, now that snapped him out of his fantasy. "You mean la-la-Lance land, Joe."

"Lance? I know not this Lance of which you speak," Chris said. "But if I did know him, I might suggest a little hazing to celebrate his grown-up status."

"Ooo, yeah." Joey agreed. "Make him do crazy stunts."

"We're gonna need lots of alcohol, and a stupid hat." Chris said, getting into the spirit of things.

* * *

Lance knew they were planning something. It was impossible not to notice the whispered conferences and the paper bags quickly stuffed out of sight when he entered the room. But all his suspicions were forgotten when Chris pulled him aside on the way to breakfast one morning.

"Hey, you got plans for tonight,"

"No," Lance lied. Justin could proofread his own damn term paper.

"Come up to our room at eight, ok? And don't tell the kid."

"Ok," Lance agreed as they stepped into the noisy dining room.

Lance was sharing with Joey this week, and Chris with JC, so that's what he meant by 'our room'. 'Don't tell the kid' meant Justin, so it probably involved the other guys too, and they didn't want to make Justin feel left out. So it wasn't a date thing, not that Lance really believed that Chris would ever ask him out at this rate.

His life was never that easy.

Even sure this was a group thing rather than a date, Lance felt like he was floating in a bubble all day. After dinner Joey never came back to the room, and so Lance took one more shower - his third of the day. He spent more time on his hair than he had before their TV appearance that day, and changed his shirt three times before it was time to go.

Finally he made his way up the hall, praying that Justin's door wouldn't open. He made it safely, and took a moment to settle his breathing before he knocked.

Chris answered, and at first Lance saw nothing but his happy smile. For that one moment he could pretend it was a date, that they would be alone. Then someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in past Chris. 

Joey dragged him over to a tiny bit of empty floor by the window, and left him standing there. Chris was turned away, fussing with a rather impressive array of paper cups lined up on the dresser, and JC was hiding something behind his back.

That was when Lance started to get nervous in a different way than before.

JC stepped out in front of Lance, hands still behind his back. "Lance Bass, you have been nominated as an adult member of our group. Are you ready to prove your manhood?"

Really nervous, but he was not going to let it show. "Will this involve breaking hotel property, local laws, commandments, or my momma's heart?"

Chris answered him quickly. "Hopefully not, none I'm aware of, one or two, and were you actually planning to tell her?"

"Fair enough. I'm ready."

JC brought out what he'd been holding behind his back, and placed on Lance's head the ridiculous Viking hat with attached braids. "The first challenge is to keep that hat on your head longer than Joey keeps his shirt on."

Lance adjusted the hat a bit, and looked at Joey "How likely is that?"

"Depends on how drunk he gets," JC answered.

Joey shrugged. "Hey, I get overheated easy."

JC kept right on talking. "Second challenge is to drink anything anyone hands you, without asking what it is."

Lance met Chris's eyes, and said, "I trust you." Chris blushed a little, looking down so that his hair flopped over his eyes.

Lance actually did pretty well. He kept the hat on almost an hour after Joey took off his shirt, finally losing the ridiculous thing when JC made him hang backwards off the bed to down a shot. 

Now he was sitting cross-legged on one bed with Chris, while the other two lounged on the other bed. Joey was pretty far gone, but JC was barely giggly and Chris just a little mellow. Lance knew his cheeks were red because that always happened when he drank even a little, but it would take more than however many little paper cups full of mystery alcohol to get him truly drunk.

"Are there any more challenges?" Lance asked of the room at large.

"How long can you hold your breath?" Chris asked.

"Wait, wait, I remember," JC said unsteadily. "Lance Bass, do you accept the responsibility to cover for the rest of us with the babysitters, and pledge to never tell anyone's parents or girlfriends what really goes on?"

"Is that all? I've been doing that already."

"Ok, then. You're officially an adult."

"So what do I get?"

"You get to sit around and drink with us," Joey answered.

"You get to come clubbing with us," JC said.

"You get to call Justin a baby," Chris said. "Oh wait, you do that already. You get to be part of all our evil plans."

"I want something better than that. I want to be the one making the evil plans, and I want a Chris."

JC started giggling. "You're in luck, we happen to have one of those lying around."

Chris looked up from where he was lying around on the bed at Lance's feet. "You sure that's what you want?"

"Yep."

"Do you promise to feed him and take him for walks?" Joey asked. 

"I promise to love him, and pet him, and call him George," Lance said, crawling forward to lean over Chris.

Chris tasted like alcohol and candy, and like a dream come true, and Lance was just getting into the kiss when a pillow smacked him in the head.

Lance sat up and glared at the other bed. "Hey!"

"No mushy stuff in front of us," JC said.

Chris pushed him down onto the pillows, wrapping around him like a blanket. "Shh. Sleep now. Kiss tomorrow."

Lance couldn't think with Chris all around him and the room so blurry. "OK."

* * *

Chris woke groggily, his head pounding and his left arm gone. No wait, not gone, just asleep from being trapped under Lance.

Lance. Kisses and taking care of Chris and keeping Chris for himself. But did Chris want to be kept? 

He opened his eyes gingerly, wary of light. The room was dim, and he could see the curve of Lance's cheek and the way his eyebrow sloped across his forehead.

Yeah, maybe he could stand being kept.

He tried to slip out from under Lance without waking him, but found himself squeezed tight.

"Not a dream? My Chris?"

"Not a dream. Your Chris needs to get up though."

Lance grunted and rolled away, letting Chris up. "Come back and sleep? Day off."

He was just too cute all half asleep. "Sure. Christmas shopping later?"

"Sleep now. Kisses later. Then Christmas shopping."

Chris stumbled to the bathroom much more cheerfully than his hangover warranted.

When he came back, he tripped over the silly horned hat thingy with the braids, and on impulse he stuck it in his backpack. He wanted to make Lance wear it again when he had a camera.

The day went pretty much as Lance had predicted. They slept about two more hours, though the kissing was interrupted by bandmates dragging them off to breakfast. And Chris had to endure a lecture from Lynn, who seemed to think she was Lance's mom too. 

But the Christmas shopping was fun, with lots of innuendos and flirting. They escaped the other guys easily, so easily that Chris suspected Lance of making prior arrangements. Not much was open on a Sunday, but Chris found presents for all his sisters and his mother. He couldn't very well get anything for Lance while he was watching.

Besides, he was just about out of money, and it's not like they got regular paychecks or anything.

So he used the last of his cash to take Lance out for a late lunch. This being their "day off" they had a dinner meeting with the babysitters, but that was hours away and Chris was hungry.

"So we should talk about things," Lance said.

"Huh?" Chris was distracted by watching Lance eat his sausage. "What things?"

"Like who we tell, and how we can spend time together without making problems for the group, and our sexual histories. Who tops, because I switch but I prefer to bottom."

Chris choked on his beer. "Who what? You're serious."

"Yes I am. I'm not a kid, Chris. You wouldn't be dating a kid, right?"

"Of course not," though he'd maybe expected a little more shyness and innocence and there went the eyebrow.

"You don't sound very sure. Ok, we'll just postpone this conversation until we're somewhere less public, and I can show you I'm not a kid."

Chris gulped. He was in trouble, and he was going to love it.

* * *

Chris had to pee. Not just that back of the mind, gotta look out for the next chance feeling. No, for the entire forty minute ride from their last interview to this hotel he'd been squirming in his seat, trying to find a position that didn't put pressure on his bladder. Now standing in the lobby while JC and Lynn talked to the people at the desk, he was looking around for a restroom. The hotel looked faded and tired, like he felt, and there was no obvious sign. The only staff members were the ones at the desk and he'd already irritated everyone enough for one day, so he just kept bouncing and hoping they got their rooms quickly this time.

The babysitter came in from parking the car, and joined the crowd at the desk. Justin was slumped over on Lance's shoulder, pouting. He had a cold. On the other side of Lance, Joey was scowling at Chris, still mad about the thing with the duck earlier. Who knew the feathers would come off that easily?

Finally JC turned around, keycards in hand. "We have one room on the first floor that's a bit smaller than the rest, and the rest are on two and four."

"I call first floor, I gotta go now," Chris said.

"I call far from Chris," Joey grumbled.

"I second that, and I'll share with you then," JC replied. "Sorry Lance."

"I don't mind, I can handle hyper boy. It's the luggage van I'm worried about."

"Forget the luggage and give me a key," Chris interrupted. "I told you, I gotta go."

JC made a big show out of shuffling through the little keycard folders, checking room numbers on each. "You mean go now, Chris? What's the hurry?" He pulled one card out of its folder, holding it above his head where he knew Chris couldn't reach.

Before Chris could give into his first impulse, which was to kick JC in the balls and grab all the cards, Lance pulled the stack of folders from JC's hand and looked briefly at them before handing one to Chris.

"Jace, don't taunt the man. You know he's perfectly capable of pissing on your foot if you make him wait too long."

Chris would have loved to stay and see JC's reaction, but by the time Lance finished the sentence he had already reached the door to the stairs. He knew how elevators were in these old buildings like this and no way could he stand waiting that long. 

Luckily Lance had given him the folder with the room number on it, because as fun as it might sound to try the card in every door on the first floor he really did have to go. The room turned out to be just around the first corner from the stairway, and he located the bathroom door by the light from the hall and went right in.

He just managed to get his pants out of the way, and letting go actually hurt after holding it for so long. The first bit of his surroundings he had time to notice was the mirror mounted above the toilet. He looked really tired in the dim light reflected from the hallway.

Which was suddenly gone, making that the second bit of surroundings he noticed. The loud door-slamming bit and the dark bit, followed by the way too-bright bit when Lance turned on the bathroom light.

"You are such a pig. I could hear you pissing all the way down the hall," Lance said as he shut the bathroom door.

"You know you love it," Chris called out, but no answer came. He finished and cleaned up, looking around the small space. There wasn't a tub, not that there ever was in these little old hotels. The toilet was just past the little sink, and the mirror extended over that entire wall which was just freaky, because it even went down behind the toilet.. Even more freaky was that the tiny shower on the opposite wall had a mirrored door, facing the toilet. Sitting there he would be staring at himself, full length, looking at the reflection of his backside in the other mirror. Just freaky.

The one good point the room had was the towel warmer that faced the main door; even though it only held two smallish towels at least they would be warm and dry.

Outside the bathroom was a little entryway, with the door out to the hall, a small wardrobe and coat hooks, and a wider doorway that had to lead to the bedroom. Though lead was perhaps too big a word, because the bed was only one step beyond the entryway. 

 _The_  bed, because there was only one. His backpack lay on the bed next to Lance's, and Chris was momentarily chagrined that he had lost track of it. With all the traveling they did, the number one lesson was never to be separated from your stuff. Number two was 'pee before we leave,' which Chris had also forgotten today. 

"You gotta see that bathroom," he started to say, but Lance held up a hand and then pointed at the phone. Chris rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about uppity boys these days.

"We're leaving here at five in the morning, even if the van was ready first thing tomorrow that wouldn't be till nine, and you'd still have a four hour drive to go." Lance was saying in the way too polite voice that made Chris want to run and hide. "If you keep following us you'll always be a day behind. You need to cut ahead, right to the next town. You could be there by six, check in and get all our bags to our rooms before we get there."

He was silent for a moment, listening, and Chris bit his lip to keep from saying something stupid to fill the quiet.

"I really don't care who signs your paychecks. I've been wearing the same pair of underwear for four days and if my bags are not in my room when I get there tomorrow night, I will shove that damn transmission up your ass so far you'll change gears every time you sneeze."

When he hung up, Chris had managed to pick his chin up off the floor. "My little boy is all grown up," he said, wiping at the corner of his eye. "I'm just happy that your sainted mother wasn't here to hear you speak that way."

"Who do you think taught me that?" Lance said with a grin. "You should have heard her dealing with the roofing contractors a few years ago. Two words: hot tar."

He stood up then and Chris would have taken a step back if the room were just a little bigger. Lance was in his personal space with just two steps.

"And watch who you're calling 'little boy'" he said, standing so close that Chris could feel his body heat. "It makes you sound like a dirty old man." 

"You wish," Chris retorted with his usual rapier-like wit. 

Lance raised the eyebrow at him before kissing him lightly. "Call the others," he said as he stepped into the bathroom. "Let them know what's up with the van. We can have that talk you've been trying to escape when I'm done showering."

The door was closed by the time Chris had processed. "Hey," he called through the door. "What am I, your secretary?" He was going to ignore the last bit of what Lance had said. 

"Only if you promise to take dictation," came the muffled reply. "And what the fuck is up with the mirrors in here?"

Chris just laughed and sat down on the bed by the phone. Lance had written a list of room numbers and Chris called JC first.

"So, Chris, how's the room?"

"It's a room. The bathroom has some freaky mirror thing going on, and there's about six inches of floor all around the bed, but the heat works so it's better than that place last night."

"Bed, you say?" JC said with elaborate casualness. "As in one bed?"

"Like you didn't know that when you gave us this room."

"You owe me one, Kirkpatrick."

"Uh-uh. You owe me, Chasez." Chris said. "Now I have to have The Relationship Talk. I've avoided it for a week and then you set me up.''

"And here I meant it as an early Christmas present. This is the gratitude I get for distracting Lynn at the crucial moment so she didn't notice the thing about just one bed?"

Chris groaned. "You just had to mention Christmas presents, didn't you. What am I supposed to get him? I can't get him the sort of crap I'm giving the rest of you."

"Dude, I think you're obsessing a bit too much. And why are you asking me for romantic advice? Talk to Joey for that shit."

"Well fuck you very much for your help, man. Oh, by the way, no luggage till tomorrow."

Chris held the phone away from his ear and let JC scream for a while. When the noise level dropped, he listened warily.

"...won't kill you to rinse them out and wear them again, man, chill out." Joey was saying.

"Joey, friend, pal, buddy, voice of reason," Chris said.

"You I am not happy with," Joey said sternly.

"I am really sorry about the duck."

"And?"

"And it will never happen again." At least not with a duck.

"Not with any other bird either."

"Of course not," Chris conceded, briefly wondering how hard it would be to get hold of a frog. Or maybe some hamsters. "Help me figure out what to get Lance for Christmas - you're good with that shit."

"What, like if he was a girl? If this gets weird I am hanging up," Joey said. "But yeah, I guess he is a little girly sometimes."

"Hey, that's my boyfriend you're calling girly. No, like just something special. Relationshipy."

"Jewelry is always good. You have to be real careful with rings, though. Unless she's holding out and then sometimes a ring is just what you need."

Chris scowled at the phone. "Dude, I am not going to buy Lance a ring just to get laid."

"Flowers?"

"Don't last."

"Candy?"

"So you can all steal it?"

"Stuffed animal?"

"Like the dozen girls hand us at every show?"

"Lingerie?"

Chris was struck by the mental image of Lance in a red babydoll nightgown, his big eyes blinking innocently and his pale skin showing through and oh god going to hell for that thought.

"Chris? Dude, you're supposed to laugh at that. Now it's getting weird and I'm gonna hang up."

"Fine. Thanks for nothing. Call Justin and tell him about the luggage thing."

"What? No, you call him."

"Only if you come here and have the Relationship Talk with Lance for me."

"No way, man. I've had way too many of those in my life, I'm not having someone else's."

"So call Justin," Chris said, and hung up the phone.

He flopped back on the bed. Then he sat up and kicked off his shoes, and flopped down on the other side. Shit, what side should he sleep on? Their first time sharing a bed, whatever side he picked he'd be stuck with for years, and he had to think this through, and  _years_?

He looked around the tiny room, and decided he wanted the side closer to the exit. The shower had just started, so he had at least half an hour before Lance came out. The boy - the man was a total clean freak.

Not Chris, he was a manly man. He rubbed his chin, and decided he could go without shaving until morning. And he'd showered after the actual performance, before the interview and the meet and greet, so he wasn't sweaty. He turned his head and sniffed himself. Nope, not sweaty at all.

Maybe if he got all ready for bed before Lance came out, he could look like he was asleep and put off the Talk. He sat up and reached out his hand to the thermostat - because it was just that close - and turned the dial so the line pointed towards the wide end of the red wedge shape. Usually that meant heat, and sure enough the radiator under the window started to make creaking and clicking sounds. 

Chris frowned. Maybe he should sleep on that side of the bed, where it was warmer. But the kid was always cold, he probably needed the heat more. 

He was so absorbed in pondering the side of the bed question that he didn't really register the shower cut off, so his first reaction when the bathroom door opened was to say, "That has got to be the quickest shower you ever took."

His second reaction was not spoken aloud, but went along the lines of 'thank god for tiny little hotel towels.'

"I was afraid you'd fall asleep. Besides, I was pretty much clean. Just wanted to rinse off and wash my shorts." Lance walked around the bed as he spoke, giving Chris a perfect view of how the towel just barely met on the side where he held it together with one hand, and how the thin material clung to his - to him as he bent over to spread his shorts on the radiator to dry.

"Now get in there and wash yours so they'll be dry by morning. Early call, remember?"

Chris nodded without standing up.

Lance whistled sharply, and Chris raised his eyes to see the eyebrow headed off for orbit. "I'm up here, remember? Go. Wash your underwear. Brush your teeth."

Chris fled.

* * *

As soon the bathroom door closed, Lance let himself fall backwards onto the bed. The towel thing had worked better than he planned. But hey, at least he was sure now that Chris really wanted him, that this was more than just fun flirting and pretend boyfriends.

Lance couldn't figure out why Chris was so reluctant to talk about things. They were adults, they both knew you couldn't make a relationship work without talking. Suddenly he laughed a little to himself. Ok so he, Lance, the seventeen-year-old, was an adult. Chris was something else.

Better not make things even more complicated by being naked when Chris came back. Lance opened his backpack and pulled out the spare set of sweats he'd already worn to bed three nights in a row. He put them on and then looked around, wondering which side of the bed was his.

Whatever. With any luck they'd both be all over the bed anyway.

He stood up and grabbed both their backpacks and shoes, shoving them in the little space under the desk so no one would trip over them. Then he lay on the bed, enjoying the warmth of the radiator and going over what he wanted to discuss with Chris. He had to tell Chris about David, just so he'd know, and probably Bethany too, in the interest of full disclosure. Chris had evaded the whole top versus bottom question so far, so they needed to do that. And hey, condoms. If the talk went well they wouldn't want to be crawling around under the desk looking for the right pocket.

Lance was bent over fishing the packets out of the inner pocket of his backpack when he heard the bathroom door open.

"You little shit," Chris said in an admiring tone, and he turned around, wondering what Chris was on about.

Chris was standing there in a skimpy towel, his wet underwear in one hand and a much larger towel held out in the other. His hair was just damp enough to stick to his forehead, and Lance's dingers itched to touch it.

"You little shit," Chris said again. "You intentionally came out here in a hand towel, trying to blow my little mind."

He pushed past Lance, his wet arm brushing over Lance's stomach, and Lance had to hold his breath to keep control.

When Chris bent to lay his shorts on the radiator, Lance threw out all thoughts about control or the relationship talk. But not the condoms. He had plans for those.

* * *

Chris was pretty sure he had a goofy expression on his face at breakfast, but he didn't care. Lance was looking smug again but he'd earned it. Chris grinned at him, and piled more meat onto his plate.

JC leaned over and asked Chris softly, "So, how was the room?"

"Wonderful," Chris said sincerely. "Best hotel room I've ever stayed in."

"But there was six inches of floor around the bed."

"Who needs to get out of bed?"

"And what about the freaky mirrors?"

"Actually turned out to be pretty fun."

"And the Talk?"

"Successfully avoided."

"How did you manage that?" Joey asked, leaning in form the other side.

"Well," Chris said, "every time he tried to talk about serious stuff I put my tongue -"

"Ew, we don't want to hear about that." Joey held his hands over his ears.

"Speak for yourself," JC said. 

But Chris had looked across the table, and seen Lance's eyebrow up in the not-fun way. The about-to-smite way. So he just smiled at Lance, and said to JC, "I never kiss and tell."

He should have known that wouldn't be the end of it. Lance managed to corner him in the tiny dressing room later, with Joey on guard outside to make sure they had privacy. And probably to keep Chris from running. 

"Ok," Chris said, resigned to his fate. "Relationship talk."

Lance nodded, his lips in a tight line. He said nothing, and Chris fidgeted a little.

Finally he could keep quiet no longer. "Ok, so. We proved basic compatibility last night; any more details will be much more fun to work out by experimentation. You've made it clear you don't mind the guys knowing we're together but no bedroom details should be shared. I'll assume that no one else should be told without talking it over first. Except I will tell my mom when I see her next, it's not a phone subject. You let me know who in your family you're telling so I know what I can say in front of who."

About then he had to put a hand over Lance's mouth. "History stuff: I did some stupid shit when I was younger but I've been tested a whole bunch of times since then, and I've been totally safe since, mostly in the not getting any sense but hey, that's the safest way, right? No major relationship angst in my past, a few serious girlfriends and one boyfriend all ended pretty calmly. Except for one psycho chick but that story would take too long right now, I'll tell you on our next long boring plane flight."

He let go of Lance's mouth. "And you?"

"One boyfriend and one girlfriend in high school, neither very serious. Both of them dumped me when they found out about each other. Some casual stuff here and there, nothing in the last few months because I was courting you. Always safe, even with casual stuff. No psychos in my history until you."

Chris grinned at him. "Good. How much longer do we have?"

Lance looked at his watch. "About fifteen minutes. Twenty if we're lucky."

"I'm feeling lucky. Ever done it in a dressing room with someone leaning on the door?"

"Joey would kill us, but I appreciate the offer," Lance said, and kissed him. Chris leaned on him, just kissing and soaking up the Lanceness until someone pounded on the door.

"It's too quiet in there. You better not be doing anything funny."

Lance yelled back, "When have you ever seen Chris do something that wasn't funny?"

"Last night was funny?" Chris asked him in a wounded voice, batting his eyelashes.

"Hell no, but Joey didn't see that, did he?" Lance said. Chris laughed, and went back to the task of kissing him until their time was up.

* * *

Three days later they were on the plane back to Florida. Chris had fallen asleep again, neither of them had gotten any sleep to speak of the night before. They were in basically the same positions as they had been on the way over, except that this plane had three seats in the row and Joey was on the aisle. 

"You guys are just too cute," Joey said.

"How cute is too cute?" Lance asked idly, already more than half asleep. He ran his fingers through Chris's hair. "So cute it makes your stomach hurt, or so cute you want to sing a song?"

"So cute I almost wish I had someone like that except I don't want to get trapped in a relationship."

Lance smiled, looking down at Chris drooling on his shirt. "I don't feel trapped, except maybe a little in the physical sense right at this moment. But I love it."

"Are you in love with him?"

Lance stopped himself from shrugging. "I don't know. Maybe. I do love him."

"He is so totally gone on you," Joey said, and Lance felt a warm glow spreading through him. "You should hear him, 'Lance is so perfect, Lance is so smart, Lance is so Lance, what will I get him for Christmas?'"

"Oh shit," Lance realized. "What am I going to get  _him_  for Christmas? Joey, I spent all my money on family, and I got the same thing for all of y'all, and he's gonna think I don't care!"

"You know if you two were any more girly we'd have our very own lesbians. Calm down, man. It's just a Christmas present."

"It's our first Christmas, our first holiday together. I have to get him something special." Lance called up their schedule in his mind. "There is no way I'm going to be able to shop before we all separate for Christmas, even if I had any money."

"So buy something when you go back home, and give it to him after Christmas. He'll understand."

Lance couldn't stop worrying about it, and it kept him awake for another hour before sheer physical exhaustion dragged him into sleep.

* * *

They'd been in Florida for two days so far, recording in the mornings and then dance rehearsals until late at night. It seemed like Lance and Chris were always recording at opposite times, whenever one was at loose ends the other was in the recording booth. So Chris went to his second-favorite way of spending time.

"Justin, come play with me. We've got Lance's Saturn hooked up in the other room."

"Those games all suck," Justin answered. "Almost as hard as your Gameboy does."

"Justin Randall Timberlake, watch your mouth," Lynn said from behind Chris, and both Chris and Justin jumped. He hadn't even known she was at the studio with them. "Come work on your homework."

Justin looked at Chris, and said, "I have no idea how she does that either, man," and disappeared. Leaving Chris all alone.

He found JC napping in the other room, on the game controllers. "JC, wake up. I'm bored."

"Fuck off."

Chris sighed. He wandered back down the hall and watched Lance sing the same line over and over through a one-way window, but since he couldn't hear Lance, and Lance couldn't see him, it wasn't much fun. He'd been banned from the control room, so he checked up and down the hall for babysitters before stepping outside.

The studio was in a little strip mall, on the second story. So far Chris hadn't looked at what was on the first storey, so that might kill some time.

And there he found the perfect place. A used game shop, one of the tiny hole in the wall buy sell trade places. He could get Lance a new game for Christmas.

If he had any money.

Chris went into the store, and checked through the Saturn games. There were a couple here that he would love, and at least three that Lance would love and Justin would hate, which was even better. All three together would be over twenty dollars, and Chris had only three.

He started to walk out, and then something caught his eyes. Under the glass of the front counter were some consoles, and half a dozen Gameboys. He asked the kid behind the counter, "You buying Gameboys?"

"Yeah."

"How much?"

"Depends on the condition. Ten to fifteen. Games are two to five each, we have a list of titles."

Chris thought. Even if his stuff was worth the low end of the scale he could get two of the games, if he was lucky he could get all three. And really, even Justin was bored with the Gameboy now, and he was too old for video games, right?

He went upstairs for his backpack.

* * *

The night before Christmas Eve, Chris, JC, and Lance all got dropped at the airport for their flights home at the same time, though Chris's was leaving an hour before JC's, and Lance's two hours after that. 

"I wish JC was leaving first," Chris said to Lance. They were sitting at Chris's gate, and Lance was gripping Chris's hand as if he could keep him there by holding on hard enough.

Strangely Chris was holding onto him even harder.

"JC wishes he was leaving first," JC grumbled. "JC is going into sugar shock. You'll see each other in four days, guys."

Chris ignored him. Lance did too, as they just sat staring at their hands clasped between them.

"Fine. You don't need me distracting you from each other, so I'm going to my gate now. Se ya in a few days."

Chris would have continued to ignore him, but Lance spoke up. "Sorry JC, we're a little preoccupied I guess. Have a merry Christmas."

"You too," JC said. "And you too, Chris. Say hi to all the other Christmas elves when you get to the North Pole."

Chris just stuck out his tongue as JC walked away, and then turned to see Lance staring at him. At his tongue, so Chris wiggled it around just to watch the color come up on Lance's cheeks. 

"You are so fun to tease," he said.

"And you so better live up to that when we get a chance." Lance said. Chris was really going to miss that eyebrow. "I'll call when I get some privacy."

"Don't worry about it if you can't," Chris said. He really didn't want to say that he couldn't afford to call Lance from home.

Lance rustled in his backpack for a moment, pulling out a small square package. "Here, I didn't want the guys to see me give you something special, they're still all jealous and stuff."

"For me?" Chris said, dropping Lance's hand to take the present. "And here's yours. Don't open it until Christmas day, ok?

"You too."

The flight was starting to board, and Chris looked around. All the people around them were gathering packages and children, the usual airport bustle intensified by Christmas. Satisfied that no one could be bothered to pay attention, he leaned over to give Lance a quick kiss. "Merry Christmas, baby. I'll miss you."

"Me too," Lance said. "Don't go sleeping on some stranger on that plane, you hear?"

"Don't worry. It's a three hour flight with no time change, and I slept well last night. Alone, but well."

Lance smiled ruefully, "Yeah, me too." He leaned over for one last kiss, and then gave Chris a little push towards the line for boarding.

He was still standing there, waving, when Chris turned for a last look before rounding the corner.

* * *

Chris had the wrapping off the present before the plan took off, of course. He was nothing if not impatient. And it was a good thing, because that gave him the entire three hours to decide how to play this.

He was looking at four Gameboy cartridges that a week ago would have doubled his collection but were now useless to him.

Shit.

By the time he landed he had it figured out. He would thank Lance, preferably in a physical way, so profusely that Lance would not notice that he wasn't playing the games. And he'd distract Lance further by playing Saturn with him whenever they weren't doing more private activities. Or you know, that record-rehearse-perform-interview-photograph cycle they seemed to do so much of.

He was distracted from his elaborate plans for thanking Lance by the plane landing. He had all the presents in his duffel, and no checked luggage, so he headed straight out to the pickup area to find his mom.

Christmas was the same jumble of noise and cookies and songs and kids as always, and Chris barely had time to think. He did, however, find time to notice the lack of phone call from Mississippi, and to fret about it. Of course, his mom's answering machine was broken and they did spend most of Christmas at Grandma's, but still. He missed Lance's voice.

Even Christmas could not keep his mother from noticing something was up. And so he told her some of it. And then he told her all of it, because she was like a pit bull when she wanted to know the details. Or almost all of it, not the really personal stuff. 

"You be careful with that boy, Christopher. He's young enough that you could get into real trouble."

"He's older than me where it counts, Mom. He pounced me the first time." And the second. But not the third, he remembered with a grin.

"Not legally, hon. Be careful, there's more than just your hearts riding on this."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Treat him right or I'll whip you. And tell him the same about you, ok? Or I'll tell him next time I see him."

"Yes, Mom." Chris rolled his eyes. "Ow," he said when she smacked him on the side of the head. "Hey, was that the cookie timer that just went off?"

His distraction was successful, and he dove into the tangle of sisters playing with their presents.

Lance was the last one to get back to Florida, on New Year's Eve. The day before they started back into recording and rehearsals.

Chris was waiting for him at the airport. He wanted to know how Lance liked the games. Hell, he wanted a chance to play them with Lance. But mostly he wanted his boyfriend.

Lance came down the steps to baggage claim with a new sweater, a new backpack, and a new haircut. 

"Wow, it's like a whole new boyfriend," Chris said.

Lance laughed. "You like? Mama actually took me to the store and let me pick a few things myself."

"I like, that color looks great with your eyes. So, do you have luggage?"

"Yeah, my grandparents gave me a new set of luggage, so I brought it all. Packed some inside the others just so I could get them all here. I figured between these, and my old ones, we can get everything into suitcases with wheels."

"Bah, you young ones are spoiled these days. I remember when we packed our luggage in old fashioned suitcases with no wheels."

That got the eyebrow he'd been waiting for. "The good old days like last week?" They laughed together. 

After they had all the shiny new suitcases loaded in Chris's crap car, Lance leaned back against the trunk and looked up at Chris with that oh-so-innocent look of his. "So, you want to take me somewhere to spoil me some more?"

"Oh yes," Chris leered at him. "We have choices. The guys want to go to Pleasure Island, where I could spoil you by sneaking you illegal alcohol. But it means the house will be empty, which would allow for more private spoiling."

"The house it is."

The guys teased them, trying to convince them to come out for New Year's. Lynn shook her head, but smiled and wished them good night when she left - she was going as Justin's chaperone.

Finally they were alone. Chris tried out some of the ideas he'd come up with for thanking Lance, and Lance seemed to have some sort of wish list himself. Starting with Chris's tongue, which Chris did not mind one bit.

He'd remembered to set an alarm for quarter to midnight, so they were ready with wine coolers to watch the ball drop on TV.

After the obligatory kissing, Chris couldn't wait to ask. "So, you haven't said. Did you like your present?"

"It was wonderful. Very thoughtful," Lance said, and did something rather distracting with his hand.

"I can't wait to try that fighting one with you," Chris said. "And what are you doing? Keep doing it. Never stop, in fact."

Lance obliged. "And you, did you like the games? I pictured you playing them at the dinner table and your mom smacking the Gameboy out of your hand."

Chris sort of leaned back away from Lance's hand. "Yeah, um, about that. I, I sorta soldtheGameboytobuyyourpresent."

Lance was staring at him, mouth open. Chris couldn't tell if he was angry, or just surprised. The eyebrows were totally symmetrical. What the hell did  _that_  mean?

Then Lance burst out laughing. After a moment of shock, Chris pushed him off the couch, and he just lay laughing on the floor. Hurt, Chris tried to stomp off. But Lance grabbed his ankle and pulled him down, narrowly missing the coffee table.

Lance was hyperventilating now, barely able to speak. But he pinned Chris under him, and panted in his ear. "Me too. Sold the Saturn. Like the story."

Chris put the words together in his mind, and grinned. "Story? You mean 'Gift of the Magi'?" He rolled them over so that he could look down at Lance's face. "You sold the Saturn to buy me Gameboy cartridges."

"Yes."

"I sold the Gameboy to buy you Saturn games."

"Apparently." Lance pushed back the hair from Chris's face, and Chris couldn't help leaning into the touch like a dog being petted. Lance smiled, and kept petting. "At least you didn't cut your hair off," he said.

"We are a sappy Christmas cliché." He looked down at Lance's face, red from laughing, and decided there was no time like the present. "Complete with the true love?"

"Yes," Lance answered softly, almost shyly. Then his smile changed, and he shifted under Chris a little, and hello Lance. "But with more sex than the original story."

 


End file.
